


Sick Like Me

by LittleSixx



Series: Together [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Author Is Sleep Deprived, Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Spoilers, Bruce Banner & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Bruce Needs a Hug, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Coda, F/M, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Minor Bruce Banner/Natasha Romanov, Minor Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Natasha Feels, Natasha Needs a Hug, Natasha-centric, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Past Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-24
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-03-31 23:02:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3996409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSixx/pseuds/LittleSixx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A somewhat AOU-compliant drabble; a re-write of Natasha and Bruce's conversation on the farm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sick Like Me

**Author's Note:**

> I re-wrote this scene as it's probably my least favourite of the film. As a three-year-long Clintasha shipper, I really didn't like it. Almost all the canon dialogue is included, it's just mushed and tweaked to suit what I believe to be a more firm characterization of Natasha. It's my first attempt at seriously writing her character or Banner, so comments and critiques are welcome.

The hot water raining down was soothing. Bruce Banner closed his eyes, which were nearly level with the showerhead. He lathered shampoo into his hair, sighing heavily, mentally checking off the places he could go. Tony’s experience means the Afghani desert was out. Calcutta? Been there done that. The QuinJet still has the Hulk cage, maybe—

The water ran cold.

He jumped back, away from the freezing stream, nearly tripping and falling into the bathtub. He sighed, rinsed his hair, and quickly grabbed the soap. Tentatively, he set each body part into the ice-cold, falling water once the lather covered him. First the arms, followed by the torso, and all the vital bits, working his way downward. He quickly shut the shower off once finished and stuffed his legs into his pants.

Bruce came out of the bathroom, shirtless and toweling off his hair. He paused for a moment when he saw Natasha on the edge of the bed and mumbled something about not knowing she waited.

“I would’ve joined you, but it didn’t seem like the right time,” She said. Bruce shrugged.

“They used up all the hot water,” He said, nodding to the next room.

“I should’ve joined you,” Nat replied, a smile evident in her voice but not her face. Bruce chuckled at the irony.

“Missed our window.”

“Did we?” Nat asked, coy. Banner’s shoulders dropped as he moved around Nat for his shirt. Pulling it on,

“The world just saw the Hulk, the real Hulk, for the first time. You know I have to leave.” Natasha pressed her lips together in reply,

“And you think I have to stay.” She looked heavenward and smiled sardonically. “You’re right.” Her eyes refocused on Bruce. “I do have to stay.” Her arms fell to her side, pomegranate-red hair bouncing almost comically as it framed her stoic expression. Bruce momentarily wondered what S.H.I.E.L.D. put in their standard-issue hairspray to keep both shape and bounce through Nat’s superspy battles—he quickly put the thought out of his mind but decided to look into it next time he was in the lab at Avengers Tower. That was, if he would ever be back.

“Okay …” He replied.

“I had this dream,” Natasha said. “The kind of dream that seems normal when you’re dreaming, but when you wake up you realize it’s each and every thing it’s impossible to have in your real life.” Banner stepped closer to her, the concern of a teammate, not of a lover, he told himself.

“What did you dream?”

“That I was an Avenger. That I was anything more than the assassin they made me.”

“You are.” Bruce insisted, tightly winding his arms around himself as the anger began to creep up from his toes, threatening to engulf him in that horribly familiar feeling. He couldn’t figure why Natasha thought she wasn’t an Avenger. Who could possibly make this horribly impressive woman think she was anything less than a person? Nat raised an eyebrow, hands on her hips,

“Am I?” She smiled then, tight-lipped, but a genuine smile. “See, in my dream we, Clint and I, we have all this.” She spread her arms wide and gestured to their horribly floral wallpapered surroundings. “This, for him, is the end game. Laura, the wife and kids, the house with the farm … It’s all Clint wanted after he escaped the circus, you know? Normalcy.

“And that’s something I could never give him. I knew that, but Clint made a choice. He was willing to give up his career and his life when he refused to kill me. I gave this to him in return. I allowed him to have this life outside of me, outside of everything I am. He would’ve stayed a spy just to be my partner forever. But this is what he really wanted. I knew that. So we’ve kept our relationship … Well, I love him, and seeing him like this is enough. Being ‘Aunty Nat’ is enough. I love seeing him happy, seeing him with the kids, and Laura’s great. She’s strong and motherly, which I can’t be. I owe him my life, and instead gave him the one he wanted.”

“And … I’m what, Natasha? Your second choice, the man you … Why? What are you doing? There’s no future with me. I can’t ever … I can’t have this; kids. Do the math, I physically can’t.” Bruce said desperately.

“Neither can I,” Nat shrugged. “They sterilized us in the Red Room. It’s practical, efficient, one less thing to worry about. It’s one of the few things that might matter more than a mission. When you can’t have that sort of life beyond your own, mortality sets in. It makes everything easier—even killing. Not that it mattered much at the time. I didn’t understand what they were doing to me. For all I knew, I’d wake up with a metal arm.

“That’s what I was, Bruce. I was an assassin, a killing machine, but Barton saw something more. He saw what bit of humanity they hadn’t burned, forced, cut out of me.” She walked forward then, to clutch Banner’s sides and sigh, a shaky breath forcing its way out of her lungs. Her head fell to his chest and she sighed again.

“I think you’re being hard on yourself.”

“And here I was, thinking that was your job.” Nat sniffled.

“Oh my God, are you … are you … are you crying?” Bruce couldn’t force the words back into his throat as much as he wished he could. Nat stepped back then, tears slowly tracking down her cheeks,

“Yeah, I, I know. It’s weird to see me human, isn’t it?” She used the sleeve of her robe to gently dab beneath her eyes. “But that’s why I love Clint. He never saw me as anything else. I was Nat, always. I am bonded to him in a way I never will be anyone else. We are partners. We’ve flown together, slept together, killed together … But I could never give him this. I play the spectator in this part of his life because there isn’t enough of Natasha left, Bruce. There is only Black Widow.”

“I …” Bruce trailed off, nothing left to say.

“You still think you’re the only monster on the team?” Nat said sardonically.

“No, Nat. You’re not a monster. I, on the other hand … Where can I go? Where in the world am I not a threat?”

“You’re not a threat. Not to me.”

“You sure?” Bruce challenged.

“Where in the world am I not a threat?” Nat countered. “You have no clue how many governments want to kill me and everyone I love. When Fury nearly died I …” Nat heaved before quickly composing herself. “How many spy organizations, and people you don’t want to know exist, Banner, want to kill me. Loki wasn’t wrong, my ledger is gushing blood. And that’s why I adore you, Bruce. You get it, you can’t control the monster you are. You’re sick, just like me. There’s a part of your head you can’t control. That satisfaction I get when I kill a robot? Same as when I kill a Hydra member. Or anyone, any human. That’s a part of me I can’t control, and you have a similar problem.”

They stood for several moments, silence forming a wall between them.

“You said you have to stay?” Bruce said.

“I do,” Nat nodded. “I do. This is my destiny, or what the Red Room chose for me, anyway. I will die in a fight. Spies don’t get old, they get sloppy, then they die. Whether it’s Ultron or Loki or some other supervillain or some villain a hell of a lot closer to home, my time will come. Stark can take off the suit, put it up for good if he wants. Cap can do the same thing, though his conscious won’t let him. Barton has a life here and can put down the bow and arrow any time. He doesn’t need us like we want him. Thor doesn’t even live here. Next thing you know, Jane’s up in Asgard and we never see him again.

“You and I, we don’t have that option. This is who we are now. We need this team more than anyone else. Except now you don’t think we need you. We do. But Bruce, I will die on this team or the next, so if the plan’s running, I can’t run with you; I’ll go crazy. I’m a fighter and I won’t hide my face to avoid the people that want to come after me. As much as I would love to run with you, I have to stay.”

Bruce nodded.

“Okay.”

“That doesn’t mean you should go,” Nat insisted.

“I really just want to disappear, where I can’t hurt anyone.”

“This doesn’t sound like you, Bruce. You’ve always wanted to help people and you can’t do that if you’re MIA. Stay here and help. Show the world the Hulk is dangerous, but he can help. You’re only a monster if that’s what you choose to be.”

“What about you, Nat? What did you choose to be?”

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have a beta other than my good friend, Spellcheck, so all mistakes are my own. Comments and critiques are most welcome! Also, please read my other AOU coda fic--it's the namesake of the "Together" series. I'm quite pleased with that ficlet, so a bit of self-promo there.


End file.
